


I Wanna Lean On Your Shoulder

by orphan_account



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 04:12:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3514877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ashton can't sleep because he's scared, and goes to Calum for protection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Wanna Lean On Your Shoulder

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So this is something I wrote a while ago and finally decided to post. The idea just popped in my head and I just had to write it, I had to get it out of my system. But it's so simple, I think, I didn't even know how to tag it. I hope you like it!
> 
> And this is unbeta'd, I'm so sorry. If you see any mistakes please ignore them. But they're not even real. But still, forgive me.
> 
> Also, one of them at one point mentions the temperature (?). It's meant to be in celsius, like normal people measure it. Sorry to the americans out there.

Ashton pulls the sheets tighter against him while his eyes wander the dark bedroom. The only light creeps in from between the narrow opening of the curtains, a blade of light spearing across the room, and he isn’t sure if it makes him feel more relieved or scared. His grip on the cotton sheets is merciless, in hopes they protect him from whatever is making him feel the cold sensation on his spine.

He hides beneath the fabric, covers his whole body in a tent, breathes deep a couple of times before realizing the air is even more suffocating when he’s completely under there. But he can’t bring himself to pull the sheets down again, afraid something in his room will startle him.

This way he can muffle the sounds their house makes; the window doors trembling against each other, something falling on the floor, the ‘pop’ the water bottle he brought to his room earlier makes, every one of them making him jolt in fear. There’s a whistling sound coming from the window. He’s scared shitless.

Ashton never agreed on renting this house during their time in LA. He twisted his nose at it when they came to check it out, while his other band members leaped across it, beaming and laughing at the big pool that goes more the seven feet deep, at the island in the fancy kitchen with its black granite counters and black shiny tiles, especially at the four spacious well-lit rooms. He had nothing against the decoration or anything like that, he just thought it was a lot more than what they needed. But he was the only one to vote against it, so they stayed.

He hates how he can hear everything so clearly, including whatever goes on outside. The windows of his bedroom are facing the street’s way, so he frequently hears the cars, the people that live in the neighbourhood that get shit-faced drunk day in, day out, zigzagging along the road and yelling curses at the sky or at whomever is with them. He hates how he’s so far away from his friends. He’d much rather sleep in a cubicle and knowing at least one of them would be no more than 5 feet away from him.

He uncovers himself, gasping for the air he struggled getting under the sheets, even though it was just a thin layer of cotton protecting him. He rolls around the bed, trying to think of a way to make him fall asleep, but the stuffy air of the house and the continuous movements cause him to start sweating. And somehow the sweat that dampens his back is cooling. The house isn’t cold.

This isn’t good.

He sits down on the bed for a minute, considering his options. He can either try to ignore this by busying himself with his phone or with the tv or he can actually get some sleep and sleep next to one of his friends.

He decides going with the second. Sleep is very important and he isn’t ready to give it up. He carefully puts his feet on the floor before getting up and darting out of his room. He’s tiptoeing as fast as he can through the dark corridors, bumping on the walls on his way, and enters one of the other bedrooms.

He went to Calum’s. It’s the best option. Luke and Michael are the grumpiest when they wake up, and might almost kill Ashton if he woke them up in the middle of the night to ask them to sleep next to them. Ok, maybe they wouldn’t kill him, but they would definitely be mean to him and maybe kick him out.

Calum wouldn’t accept him with open arms, but at least he wouldn’t be a jerk about it.

He walks around the king-sized bed where Calum lies, with his arms and legs sprawled in every direction. The curtains are open, letting all the light coming from outside in the room. Ashton can see Calum almost clearly, studying him. He’s lying in the bed on his stomach, the sheets only covering one of his legs, his face against the fluffy pillows that make his plump lips pucker a bit. Ashton smiles fondly at the sight.

He sits on the side of the bed. The mattress dips, but not enough to wake Calum. Ashton stretches his hand to brush at his arm, with tenderness as so not to upset his friend. There’s still no response.

“Calum,” Ashton whispers with hesitance.

No answer.

“Hey, Calum,” he repeats, this time shaking his shoulder slightly.

A low unpleasant groan floats from Calum’s throat.

He slowly opens his eyes, squinting up at Ashton with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Ashton? What are you doing here?” he asks with a raspy voice that makes Ashton blush.

“I can’t sleep,” he answers, glad that it’s too dark for Calum to see anything properly.

He closes his eyes again, resting his face on the pillows, “Well, I’m sleeping. What made you think you could wake me up?”

“Don’t be a jerk! I can’t sleep ‘cause I’m scared,” Ashton whines.

Calum opens one eye, “Scared of what?”

Ashton looks away from him, a bit embarrassed that he was about to ask sleep with him. He never felt the need for it. Normally he would share a hotel room with one of the guys or sleep on the bus next to them. At home, his brother Harry had asked to sleep with him more times than he can count, and before his brother it was Lauren who joined him. But he never was the one to seek out.

That was about to change.

“Can I sleep here?” he ignored Calum’s question, already lifting one of his legs on top of the bed, even though he didn’t get an answer.

“Sure…” Calum replied in a sleepy tone, “But why?”

“The noises this house makes are driving me nuts,” Ashton grumbles, already lying in his side, facing Calum’s blank expression.

“Are you serious? Bro, those are perfectly normal,” Calum argues.

There’s a hint of mockery in his voice that doesn’t please Ashton. He pouts.

“The windows are shaking and there’s a creepy sound coming from them,” he whines.

“That’s just the wind, Ashton,” Calum says. And ok, he’s talking to him like he’s a child now, and Ashton’s not having it. He has more than justifiable reasons to be scared and he won’t be made fun of.

“That’s what the people in the movies always say before they find out their house is haunted and end up getting killed,” Ashton says.

Calum sighs, but doesn’t say anything in return. Ashton feels frustrated. He doesn’t like the way Calum’s taking this and he’s changing that. He wants to drag Calum to his level.

“I think it’s a ghost.”

Calum gasps, eyes widening, “You take that back!”

“You know they exist! The odds that there’s at least one here are very high. This is a big house, can even be two of them,” Ashton smirks. He felt like he could sleep safe and sound now that his friend wasn’t judging and understood a little of what he had gone through the last two hours.

“Shut up! You know my feelings towards ghosts and you’re doing this on purpose,” Calum cries. He has an adorable pout that forces Ashton to keep a giggle from pouring out.

As Calum finishes saying this, the windows wobble furiously and the whistling begins once again. Calum lets out a whimpering sound and begins squirming, frantically reaching for the sheets and pulling them up to his face. Ashton mimics him, struggling to get a grip on the covers and wailing as he joins his friend under the sheets. He feels a little better knowing he’s not the only one who feels safer this way.

He barely makes out Calum’s features under there. It’s darker and he can no longer see the curve of the bottom of Calum’s back meeting his perky bum. His face twists at this, wishing he could steal glances at it again whenever Calum wasn’t looking. He can spot some of the lines of his jaw, nose and mouth. His lips are trembling, and he’s holding on to his pillow tightly.

“We need to move,” he says, voice shaky with fear.

“We can’t, we signed a contract, remember? The one I didn’t want to sign? That one?” Ashton replies, tasting the bitterness on his tongue.

A whining noise makes its way out of Calum’s mouth.

Ashton saw his eyebrows furrow and his jaw shut tight. He speaks through his teeth, “This is your fault. You woke me up and made me aware of the noises. And talked about ghosts!” the last sentence is spat.

“Now you understand,” Ashton says calmly.

“Fuck you,” he grumbled. He didn’t really mean it, and Ashton didn’t take it seriously. He chuckles instead, “It’s not funny!” Calum adds.

“But now we have each other, we’re safe,” Ashton voice is soft.

He really means it. He feels safe around Calum. The crippling fear is beginning to soothe now that he had the younger boy in front of him, even though he’s freaking out and cursing at him.

“Don’t be naïve! Now that there’s two of us he’s only gonna be hungrier for our blood,” Calum answers, his voice small and cracking at the end, like he is about to cry.

“No… now that there’s two of us we can take on him and kick his ass,” Ashton argues.

“And how exactly are we going to _kick_ his ass? Ghosts are immaterial, Ashton, they can’t be killed… again,” Calum groans, the crease between his eyebrows deepening, reminding Ashton of a child throwing a tantrum.

“Well… he can’t reach us here,” Ashton says, shuffling in his spot to make himself more comfortable.

He feels the cold sensation running along his back again and the smile he was giving Calum vanishes from his lips.

“Dude, are you shaking?” Calum asks, worry and confusion clear in his voice.

“I’m shivering,” Ashton corrects, rubbing the palms of his hands on his sides to shake the cold feeling.

“What do you mean, ‘shivering’? It’s like... almost thirty degrees!” Calum laughs.

“I know, my skin is fine. But my bones feel cold, I don’t know what’s going on,” Ashton says, still hugging himself.

It’s useless. He thinks of getting a blanket, but he’s almost sure that won’t help him, only will make him sweat harder. Besides, that would require him to get out of bed, which he refused to do. He was too comfortable and too scared to leave the tent that were Calum’s sheets.

“Come here,” Calum says after a short silence. His voice sounds hesitant, yet soft.

Ashton’s breath gets caught in his throat. His heart is beating fast against his ribcage and his breathing becomes irregular. He has dreamt of this too many times, a lot of the dreams ending in just more than a innocent cuddle.

His attraction towards his friend began about nine months ago, when both of them went on a roadtrip with some friends back home. They were sitting on the trunk of his car one night, absently staring at the night sky above, filled with sparkling stars, and they were laughing and drinking beer, making stupid jokes and remembering the old times. Maybe it was the alcohol, but they ended up talking about them, about the band, about their friendship, and Calum told him how he was the person he cared most about and he wished he never left his side, that they would stick together forever.

Ashton remembers Calum squeezing his hand after he said it, remembers squeezing it back just as hard and remembers feeling the same way about him, only realizing it was more than just simply that when he felt his stomach stir and his chest flutter. He remembers the heat wave running along his body the next day, when he saw Calum coming soaked out of the ocean, running his hand through his raven hair to shake the water from it, droplets travelling along his torso, making their way to the underside of Calum’s beach shorts. He remember swallowing thickly at the sight.

It isn’t right. He crushed on guys before, but this is Calum he’s talking about, his best friend. He hid this feeling from everyone, tried hard not to be obvious. He thinks he’s been doing well enough, if he doesn’t count the time he moaned Calum’s name while he was inside a girl he had gone out on a few dates with about two months ago. It’s safe to say it was the most awkward thing he experienced.

But now Calum is in front of him, his arm raised in gesture to welcome him in. They cuddled before, but never when it was just the two of them, late at night, in one of their rooms.

He clears his throat before getting closer to the brunette boy, stopping only a few inches away from him. He can already feel the heat pulsating from Calum’s body, and he doesn’t think he can manage touching it and keep calm, so he keeps a short distance between their bodies.

“Closer, dummy. Don’t you want to feel better?” Calum says as his hand rests on Ashton’s shoulder, pulling him towards him, “you can put your face against my chest, it’ll feel nice.”

Ashton slowly draws forward, closer to Calum. He goes further down the bed and rests his forehead at the base of Calum’s throat. His heart is beating furiously quick and he’s sure his cheeks are burning red under Calum’s embrace. Calum wraps his arm around him, pulls him to close the remaining distance between them, their skin touching everywhere.

Ashton pulls his head back a little, trying hard not to touch the top of Calum’s chest with his lips, scared he won’t be able to stop himself from doing something idiotic.

“See, that’s better,” Calum whispers, “your legs cold too?”

He doesn’t wait for Ashton to answer, not wasting any time to tangle their legs, thighs touching his knees, their weight comfortable instead of bothering.

Ashton tries not to think of how his crotch is resting at the front of Calum’s smooth thighs, does everything to distract from the feeling, starts thinking of tedious things.

But Calum’s skin feels too delicious to ignore.

“You’re so warm,” he purrs against Calum’s collarbones, lifting his head just a little.

He feels better. Not his bones, though. He thinks maybe he has a cold coming. But Calum’s touch seems to numb the uncomfortable feeling. Calum doesn’t answer, just exhales a laugh through his nose, making his chest puff out a bit and it touches Ashton’s lips briefly.

As if wasn’t enough, he moves his his hand up Ashton’s back, trailing it along his spine and his neck to slip his fingers in his hair and starting to caress it.

It feels so good. Calum smells like soap. The warmness of his skin, the fingers in his hair, the pressure of Calum’s crotch at the bottom of his belly, they’re all too tempting. Ashton lifts his head again and presses a tentative kiss on Calum’s neck. He looks up in expectation, even though it’s too dark to see anything. He feels Calum’s throat vibrate, only to hear him chuckle.

“Tickles,” he says, but doesn’t retract from the touch.

He tries it again, opens his mouth a little to leave a longer, wetter kiss on Calum’s neck. He feels the shuddering breath Calum lets out and then he’s untangling their legs, climbing sloppily on the bed as he leaves open mouthed kisses on his friend’s throat. He trails his mouth along his jawline and stops when he reaches Calum’s lips. His breaths are sharp and heavy and Ashton can already hear his arousal in them.

He surges forward, pressing his lips to Calum’s and raising his hand to cup his jaw. It’s gentle at first, hesitant and slow, testing the waters. Then it becomes more desperate when Calum kisses back. Ashton tilts his head to deepen the kiss and their tongues meet, a little noise making its way from Calum’s throat. He can taste the minty toothpaste on Calum’s breath and he pulls him closer, eager to taste more of him.

But he has to stop himself, for the sake of their friendship, for the sake of the band, for the sake of Calum. He can’t go further if it means it’s going to change them, change what they have with each other. Because Ashton cherishes it too much to risk losing it.

So he stops, breaking the kiss and pulling his head back a little. Calum’s hands are still tangled in his hair, not moving. It’s dark in the room, too dark to make out Calum’s face. He’s wondering if he upset Calum and ruined it, feeling tears threaten to fill his eyes when silence is the only thing he can hear. It’s deafening.

A small noise begins to form in Calum’s throat, and then he’s giggling, probably thinking how weird it was to kiss his best friend. It feels less awkward, and maybe that’s what Calum means to do. By tomorrow he won’t remember this, won’t think of this ever again. Unlike Ashton, who won’t be able to keep this out of his head for the rest of his days. Even though Calum had kissed back, Ashton would cringe at this memory in the future. How could he be so stupid? All these thoughts are running through head and, meanwhile, Calum’s hand is still in his hair as he continues to giggle uncontrollably.

Ashton forces a weak laugh, trying to cover his insecurity and his embarrassment. He wishes he could evaporate and join the ghost that’s been haunting him all night. He was the one to blame for this.

To his surprise, Calum’s hand moves to the side of his face, thumb grazing his cheek. He rests his forehead against Ashton’s and his laugh ceases.

Ashton can hear the smile in his voice, “You need to be scared more often.”

 

 


End file.
